Winning the Peace
by Piaf2
Summary: The war is won, but now Harry must win the peace. Voldemort's defeat has triggered a wave of anti-Slytherin sentiment, including the arbitrary arrest of those suspected to have supported the Dark Lord during his reign of terror. At Hermione's urging, Harry re-enters the fray.
1. Chapter 1

The retribution had started only days after Voldemort's defeat. The wizarding world was angry - too many had lost loved ones to Voldemort's brief reign of terror, and those who had escaped had still lived each day in a state of constant fear that they might be next. Just as quickly as the tabloid press had started to publish pro-Voldemort propaganda once it was clear he had won, it now posted angry appeals that those responsible for the terror be brought to swift justice.

This desire for retribution had swept across the wizarding world, a contagious disease that turned grief into fury. Even headed by Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Ministry of Magic was unable to hold back this tide of fury. It had, despite Kingsley's objections, become official Ministry policy that anybody merely suspected of collaborating or sympathising with Voldemort during his reign could be imprisoned without a prompt trial.

The result? Hundreds of Slytherin-connected families had been detained. Without doubt, many of them had supported Voldemort's return, but others had not. And without a trial, there was no way of differentiating between the innocent and the guilty.

This, however, was far from Harry Potter's mind as he lay in bed with his red-haired, and quite naked, girlfriend. Several months now had passed since the Battle of Hogwarts. These had been months of grief and of untold sorrow; there had been funeral after funeral, his attendance expected at each and every one to mark the sacrifices that had been made, to a great extent, on his behalf. Now, with the worst behind him and Ginny by his side, he rather felt deserving of a period of retreat and insulation from the outside world.

He smiled at Ginny. She was beautiful. Her hair seemed to flicker like a crackling flame even as it lay still on the pillow and on her shoulder. There was happiness in her eyes, where there had been only void for so many weeks after the death of Fred.

"That was good", he said, his chest heaving.

"Very." She agreed. She reached out to stroke his shoulder, her fingers dancing lightly over his skin.

There was audible commotion downstairs. The sound of clanging pots and pans and Ron's mirthful shouts had become a familiar one since the Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione had moved into Grimmauld Place. It was only a temporary arrangement; none of the four had any particular desire to stay permanently in a place infused with so many bad memories, but it was spacious and removed in a way that the constantly-bustling Burrow was not.

"Sounds like Hermione and Kreacher are arguing over who makes breakfast again," Ginny giggled.

"Kreacher will win," Harry predicted. The elf seemed to genuinely enjoy making them food; though all four had been keen to emphasise that he did not need to cater to their every need, only Hermione's protestations still persisted.

Ginny nodded and laughed very softly. After a little while, she asked: "Do you know what you're going to do yet?"

"Nope." Harry replied. "And I'm in no rush to make a decision."

"That's good." She soothed. "But we do need to think about Hogwarts. And if we're not going back, we need to find a different place. We can't stay here forever."

Technically, Harry and Ginny both had the option to return to Hogwarts for their final year. Harry, of course, had missed his, while Ginny would naturally be entering her seventh year. However, all those who had fought in the Battle of Hogwarts had been offered a choice. They could either return to the school to finish their education, or they could choose not to, in which case they would be considered graduated regardless. Although the school was heavily encouraging all students to come back, it had been considered insensitive to force those who had fought to return to the scene where so many had witnessed friends die.

"I'm not sure I want to go back." Harry said quietly. How would he be able to sit in the Great Hall without seeing the slouched, cold bodies of Remus, or Tonks, or Fred?

"Me neither," Ginny agreed. Her eyes turned cold for a second, and Harry knew that her thoughts were the same as his.

"Hermione won't approve." Harry laughed. He was certain that she would return for her final year, although he had not yet consulted her on the subject.

Ginny snorted. "If she goes back, Ron won't be happy. Can't imagine he's keen for an extra year in school."

Harry shared her laugh.

"It's not as though we need to go back, anway." Ginny said, her tone now more serious. "We'll both have options. I can't see the Auror Department turning you down if you apply, especially given how depleted it is."

"True." Harry agreed. "Same for you, I reckon. And I reckon every Quidditch team in the league will be after your signature, if you choose to go down that route."

"Anyway, enough of the serious stuff." Ginny said. "We don't have to decide anything now. We've earned that."

Her hand slipped under the blanket, and Harry gasped when she grasped him. "Now, I think we have some catching up to do."

Harry smiled. "I think you might be right." He leaned in to kiss her, and he ran his hands through her hair, and then she rolled on top of him, and the cover fell away, leaving them bare.

Then, though, came a sharp knock on the door.

"Are you two awake?" Hermione called from outside.

Ginny groaned and rolled off him. She pulled the cover back over them so that they were decent.

"What is it, Hermione?" She called, hardly concealing her frustration.

Hermione opened the door and, judging by her blush as she saw their bare shoulders peeking out from under the blanket, immediately regretted having done so. She quickly averted her eyes.

"Oh, well, sorry, I just came to tell you that breakfast was ready, if you wanted to join me and Ron."

She quickly retreated and was careful to close the door behind her.

"Remind me never to open the door to Ron and Hermione's room," Harry laughed, clambering out of bed and reaching for some clothes.

"Please, don't put that image in my head." She replied, making retching noises, to Harry's amusement.

A few minutes later, they joined Ron and Hermione at the kitchen table. Two plates of steaming food were already waiting for them, courtesy of Kreacher. Ron shot Harry a dirty look as the latter sat down; Hermione had evidently told him what she had seen. Ron may have come to accept his friend's relationship with his sister, but the idea of their consummating that relationship still seemed to be one that he was uncomfortable with.  
"Delicious food, Kreacher." Harry said as he tasted his breakfast. The elf was evidently gratified to hear his praise.

"Have you read the news, Harry?" Hermione asked, thrusting that morning's Prophet in his direction.

He glanced at the front page's headline as he ate: Wizarding world applauds as new You-Know-Who sympathisers caught.

Harry rolled his eyes. "No sign it's letting up, then."

"It's outrageous!" Hermione protested. "They're locking people up without trials."

"The Ministry has promised they will get trials eventually," Ginny pointed out. "Kingsley's said it himself. Doesn't it make sense to round these people up before all of Voldemort's supporters can scatter? If they're innocent, they'll be released when they get their trial."

"But when are these promised trials going to start?" Hermione demanded. "I know Kingsley's trying his best, but this is unacceptable. If the Ministry can start arresting without the guarantee of an imminent trial, nobody is safe."

Harry agreed, but he was in no mood for a debate. He stayed silent. He exchanged a look with Ron, who also seemed determined to remain reticent.

"Okay," Ginny said. "Obviously I agree that the Ministry shouldn't be able to detain anyone it wants indefinitely. But that's not what's happening here; the Ministry's just trying to make sure nobody slips through its fingers. Hermione, they haven't managed to get all the Death Eaters yet. They haven't got Rookwood, for example. And even if these Slytherin families being arrested are innocent, you never know, some of them might know something. They might be able to help."

Harry held his breath. The conversation had just, in a moment, become highly volatile. Rookwood was the piece of dirt who had killed Fred Weasley. Although Harry was more inclined to agree with Hermione on this subject, he could see that Ginny was making an emotional argument, driven by her desperation that the person who had killed her brother be brought to justice. He shot Hermione a pointed expression, silently urging her to drop the subject.

"I understand what you're saying, Ginny." Hermione said in a voice intended to be soothing, but which Harry suspected could equally be perceived as patronising. "But just think about it for a second. If the Ministry had the power to punish people without a trial, what would have happened to Harry after the dementor attack in Little Whinging a few years back?"

"That's different." Ginny protested, but failed to elaborate.

Hermione's piercing eyes turned to Harry. "What do you think?" She asked him.

"I really don't want to weigh in on this. But sure, it worries me. I can't think of many Slytherins that I liked too much, but I don't like the idea that they're being rounded up just in case they know something."

He could feel Ginny glaring at him. She'd undoubtedly expected him to take her side.

"Exactly." Hermione agreed. "There are plenty of Slytherins who wanted nothing to do with Voldemort, even if they had to keep quiet about it."

Ron snorted disbelievingly, but Hermione was not deterred.

"Harry, why don't you speak out about it?" She suggested. "You might be the only one who can stop this madness. If you publicly opposed what's happening, maybe the press would stop demanding these arrests."

"C'mon, Hermione." Ginny intervened. "If Harry speaks out against this, the press will just turn on him. The Prophet's always had it in for him."

"Hermione, I was really hoping to keep out of the public eye for a while." Harry pointed out. "I've had enough media attention for a lifetime."

"I know, Harry." She soothed. "I know you've always hated the press. But this is important. You'll never be able to totally escape your fame, but you can use it for good."

"Let the guy eat his breakfast in peace," Ron said, finally breaking his silence. Harry sensed that his position on this question was closer to Ginny than it was to his girlfriend.

Hermione did not take her eyes off Harry, however, forcing him to respond. "Look, I'm not ready to talk to the press again. But how about this - I'll arrange a meeting with Kingsley, try and persuade him to do more to stop this. Would that satisfy you?"

She did not seem fully content. However, under the withering gazes of Ginny and Ron she relented. "Okay, that seems like a good first step, I suppose."

With that, the tension began to clear. Harry resumed eating his breakfast which had, by now, gone cold. He knew, however, that he had not heard the last from Hermione Granger on this subject.

NOTES

This story is also available on AO3

I wrote this because I was interested in the idea that the defeat of Voldemort might trigger a kind of wizarding McCarthyism. If this is a concept that you think is worth persevering with, let me know in the comments. If you think it's rubbish, I'd still like to hear your thoughts. To a great extent, whether I continue with this story will depend on what you guys think, so let me know!


	2. The Minister for Magic

"You don't have to do this, you know." Ginny said sternly. She was lying on their bed on her stomach, her blazing red hair pooling around the sides of her head, while her legs kicked up. It was a distracting position, difficult to ignore.

Harry rummaged through the wardrobe, seeking a fresh suit that would fit him. He'd never enjoyed dressing smartly, but today he was going to see the Minister for Magic, so there really was very little choice.

"I know." He responded gruffly. "But it'll get Hermione off my case."

As they'd agreed a few days prior, he was to meet Kingsley to urge him to drop the policy of arbitrary detention that had swept across the wizarding world since Voldemort's defeat. Harry doubted the meeting would accomplish anything. Kingsley, after all, was undoubtedly already opposed to the policy. He was not in any need of persuasion. Still, it was better than going to the press.

"You don't owe Hermione anything," Ginny reminded him. "Or the wizarding world. You've already done more than anyone could have asked of you, we all have."

"I don't intend to get drawn into this," he reassured her. "I'll meet with Kingsley, he'll say he's doing all he can, and that'll be it."

He climbed into a pair of dark trousers, buttoned up a white shirt over his torso, and threw a jacket over his shoulders.

"Tie or no tie?" He asked his girlfriend.

"Tie. You look nice in a tie."

He followed her instructions before turning to her and asking: "How do I look?"

"Not half bad," Ginny smiled. He leaned in to kiss her on the forehead; she re-adjusted her position to ensure that his lips met hers instead.

"I shouldn't be long." He said, checking his watch. "Maybe an hour or two. What'll you do while I'm gone?"

"Maybe go and see mum," Ginny yawned. "Think she's going to try and make me go back to Hogwarts for my last year."

"Fair enough. But you'll be back for tea?"

"Should be."

"Okay, great. I'll see you then." He said, making to leave.

"Harry, wait." Ginny said. "Promise me you won't get drawn into this thing. It's not what you need right now. It's not what _we _need."

"Ginny, I promise." He said, returning to her side and looking her directly in the eyes. "I don't want to get involved any more than you do."

"Okay." She smiled. "I love you."

"Love you too."

She blew him a kiss as he left the room.

Hermione was waiting for him by the house's front door. "Come to see me off?" Harry asked with a smile.

"I'm coming with you." She said. "We'll make more of an impression if we're both there."

Harry shrugged. "Sure, if you say so."

He'd learned long ago that it was pointless putting up a fight when Hermione had made up her mind.

She smiled gratefully for his lack of resistance, and extended her arm. "Shall we?"

He took her arm, and moments later they disappeared with a loud crack. They appeared in an alley in central London.

"The phone box is just around the corner," Hermione explained, and they began walking.

"Ron know you're joining me today?" Harry asked as they strolled.

"Ronald doesn't have to know my whereabouts at every moment in the day," she replied archly.

Harry laughed. "I guess he's about as keen on this enterprise as Ginny is, then."

"They're still mourning Fred," Hermione replied, her tone softening. "I guess it's only natural they're not seeing it the same way we do. They just want people like Rookwood caught, whatever it takes. It's understandable."

Harry wondered whether she was trying to convince him or herself.

"It is." He agreed. "Look how crazy I went after Bellatrix killed Sirius. I just wanted to _kill _her, you know. It wasn't a question of morality. I just wanted revenge."

They stopped outside the dim red phone box. Hermione turned to look at him, and there was real softness in her eyes. "Listen, Harry. I know Ginny isn't keen on you getting involved in this thing. I don't want to make things awkward between you. I just can't help but think we have to do something if we can."

"It's okay," he said, smiling. "I want to stop this madness too. But listen, I do want to do this quietly if we can. I know you want me to speak out, but I've promised Ginny that I'll keep a low profile in this thing. I'll do what I can, but I don't want to break that promise."

Hermione chewed her lip. Harry could tell that she wanted to protest, but she obviously thought better of it. She said, non-committally: "Well, let's see how this meeting goes."

They stepped into the phone box, which soon dispensed their visitor passes and took them into the Atrium. The grand reception area seemed unusually empty; the _Magic is Might _statue that had towered over the room during the Death Eaters' reign had been removed but not yet replaced, leaving a great empty space.

Harry and Hermione stepped out onto the polished wooden floor. They both had only unhappy memories of this place. They registered their wands with the security guards who stood in front of the lifts, attracting gazes and mutters from all around as they made their way across the hall.

They took the lift to Level 1. Harry and Hermione both were obliged to shake the hands of most of those crammed into the lift; all seemed keen to personally offer their gratitude for the two companions' role in defeating Voldemort. It left a unwelcome feeling in Harry's stomach and a sour taste on his tongue.

The lift was empty by the time they reached Level 1, however, giving Harry and Hermione more freedom to speak.

"You're going to have to get used to that," Hermione said amusedly.

"It doesn't feel right," Harry replied. "We weren't the ones who gave the ultimate sacrifice, yet people treat us like we single-handedly beat him."

"You did."

"I did what?"

"You gave the ultimate sacrifice. You let _him _hit you with a killing curse. You thought it was going to kill you."

Harry grunted.

"All I'm saying is," she said sympathetically, "I know you hate the attention, but that doesn't mean it's misplaced."

He gave no reply, nor did she appear to expect one. They walked in comfortable silence through Floor 1, passing Umbridge's old office as they did so. An elderly secretary guarded Kingsley's office.

"Harry Potter and Hermione Granger to see the Minister," Harry said. "We have a meeting scheduled."

The secretary scanned her diary. "Ah yes, here you are. You're slightly early, so please feel free to take a seat."

They thanked her and did as she instructed.

"What's our strategy for in there?" Harry whispered.

Hermione grasped his wrist, and they looked at each other. Her brown eyes were, characteristically, full of determination. "We're going to find how why the Ministry isn't organising trials, and we're going to make him commit to sorting this mess out."

Harry nodded. For a moment, it felt like they were back on the run, strategising in that godforsaken tent. They were on the war trail again, pursuing what they knew to be right in the face of unfavourable odds. Harry had never expected that he could ever miss such a life, but the sparks of adrenaline he could feel at the tips of his fingers suggested otherwise.

The polished black door to Kingsley's office opened and the Minister emerged. He met them with a broad, fond smile; when Harry extended his hand, he instead received a warm embrace. He turned to Hermione, saying: "I didn't realise you'd be attending this meeting as well, Hermione, but it's always a pleasure to see you." They also embraced.

"Come in, come in." He said, escorting them into his spacious office. "Make yourselves comfortable, and whenever you're ready, tell me what's on your mind."

Kingsley's office was ornate in a way that made Harry feel uncomfortable; its gold trappings, polished mahogany desk and luscious scarlett walls lent it the appearance of a monarch's quarters. It was no surprise, Harry reflected internally, that ministers for magic so routinely failed to keep their feet on the ground.

Hermione launched into her line of questioning as soon as they were settled. "Why is the Ministry arresting and imprisoning whole families without trial? You must agree with us that this isn't what we all risked our lives for."

Kingsley's eyes twinkled, though there was also weariness evident within them. "You don't beat around the bush, do you? I've always liked that about you. And I knew that this meeting was coming, that you two wouldn't accept what's going on."

"_Why _is it going on, Kingsley? There must be something you can do to stop it." Harry said gently.

"Harry, do you trust me?"

"Of course."

"Then please rest assured that I'm doing everything I can to end this awful policy."

"But you're minister for magic…" Harry began.

"The minister for magic is not as powerful as you probably think," Kingsley barked, cutting across his young friend. His frustration was finally breaking through his calm, charming demeanour.

"Fudge always seemed to do whatever he wanted." Harry pointed out.

Hermione interjected: "Fudge was a master politician. He spent years cultivating the relationships he needed to exercise power. He was an insider."

"Exactly." Kingsley exclaimed, looking fondly at Hermione, who had, as ever, been able to cut through to the heart of the matter.

"Look," he said. "The minister can't do a great deal by themselves. They need the support of the nobles and the press. Without those groups, it's impossible. I can't just impose my will on them. And if I try to, they can engineer my downfall and replace me with someone who shares their view."

"The nobles and the press both support the detention policy," Harry said, cottoning on. "They're trying to cover themselves. Most of them went along with Fudge when he refused to acknowledge Voldemort's return, and plenty of them switched their allegiance to Voldemort once he'd taken over. Now they're trying to prove their anti-Voldemort credentials by supporting the most extreme policy available."

"Exactly." Kingsley said with approval. "So now you can see my difficulty. The nobles and the press will continue to support the detention policy for as long as it is politically convenient for them to do so. Until then, I can't end the policy, or they'll replace me with someone who supports it."

"But what about the trials?" Hermione interjected. "Are you still committed to making sure the people who get detained do get trials eventually?"

"Of course." Kingsley assured her. "I'm trying. But it's difficult. It takes a long time to organise even one trial. Our aurors are bringing people in faster than we can arrange trials for them. It's a mess."

"The auror department should no better."

"A lot of those aurors lost friends, colleagues in the war. They don't see it like we do. They want to avoid the mistakes we made last time Voldemort was defeated, when many of his followers got away."

"So instead they're locking up anyone with even the most dubious connection to Voldemort and denying them trials - great." Hermione said sardonically.

Kingsley shrugged. "I agree with you. But I'm not a dictator. There's a limit to what I can do."

Harry leaned forward in his chair. "What _is _your plan, then?"

Kingsley hesitated. He was usually such a smooth and persuasive talker, but he faltered now. And he looked tired, more tired even than he had looked in the worst days of the war. He seemed _grey_ and weary and, worst of all, unsure of himself.

Eventually, he said: "We wait. This press onslaught won't last forever, it never does. It'll lose interest before too long, as will the nobles. That's when we'll act."

Harry could feel Hermione bristle beside him. She was not satisfied with the answer, that much was clear. For her, this was a matter of justice; of clear, unambiguous right and 'd seen this side of her behaviour so many times before; this, after all, was the witch who had stood alone in demanding rights for house elves. She'd been roundly mocked at the time, but she was sustained by her clear sense that she was right. And she had been right, just as she was right now. Equivocation was not good enough; she wanted immediate action.

"Kingsley," she said through gritted teeth. "It's been months already. We can't afford to wait."

"It's the best I can offer right now. If you can think of anything better, I'd genuinely love to hear it."

Then, abruptly, he rose from his chair and straightened his dark robes. Harry and Hermione recognised this as a clear indication that he considered the meeting over. Reluctantly, they also rose and followed him to the door.

He extended his hand to Hermione first. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you what you wanted to hear. But I promise you, I _will _resolve this. I a_m_ doing everything I can."

After a moment's hesitation, she took his hand. She smiled at him warmly, but Harry could tell she was thoroughly dissatisfied with the course that the meeting had taken. Probably, her formidable mind was already devising her next steps.

Then, Kingsley turned to Harry. He placed his hand on the shorter man's shoulder. "Actually, Harry, do you mind staying behind for a minute? I had something I wanted to mention."

"Anything you need to say to me, you can say to Hermione." Harry responded firmly.

"I know," Kingsley said. "It's nothing sensitive, though, I assure you."

"It's okay, Harry," Hermione said gently, touching his arm. "I can wait outside."

She shot him a pointed look, however, as she left. Harry knew its meaning well. Their long friendship had fostered an ability to communicate wordlessly. In this case, she was signalling that she expected him to spill the details of this private conversation later.

"What did you want to tell me, then?" Harry asked once the door had shut.

"It's good news, actually." Kingsley said, placing his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "We've caught Rookwood. I thought you'd want to know, given what he has done."

Images of Fred flashed through Harry's mind. That infectious grin; the shock of ginger hair; the endless pranks.

"That is _brilliant_ news," Harry agreed. His fists clenched at the mere thought of that piece of dirt.

Kingsley nodded. "I hope it brings some peace to you and the Weasleys. I will be informing them myself as soon as we're ready to make it public, of course, but I thought I'd let you know first."

"Why did you make Hermione leave the room, though?" Harry asked. "No reason she couldn't have known this too."

"Indeed." Kingsley agreed. "And I suspect you'll tell her the moment you leave this office. No, the reason I asked her to leave is that I have a direct proposition for you that links to this new development."

"Go on."

"I'd like you to join the Auror Office." He explained. "We'd be willing to waive the normal tests. You'd still receive all the relevant training, of course."

Harry puffed out his chest. For some years now, he had aspired to join the Auror Office; that most prestigious, exclusive team of law enforcement officers. His dream, now, was being handed to him on a silver platter. All that was left was for him to grasp it.

And yet, he had been manipulated enough times to recognise now that few 'gifts' or 'rewards' were ever quite what they seemed.

"What does that have to do with Rookwood?" He asked flatly, making sure to contain his elation; he did not want to give anything away.

"Well, look. Wizarding faith in the Ministry has never been as poor as it is now. And our community is as divided as it has ever been. That's why we're seeing this arbitrary imprisonment policy - people want retribution. If we want to calm people's fears and anger, we need to offer them something. And that's where you come in."

"Go on."

"Here's my proposition. In a few days' time, we're going to announce the Rookwood news. When we do so, I'd like to make a parallel announcement. I'd like to announce your ascension to the Auror Office, where you'd be a member of the task force dedicated to tracking down Voldemort's followers. That double dose of good news would go a long way towards assuaging the public's anger and concern. Like it or not, Harry, you've already achieved mythical status in our wizarding community. People are convinced that because you defeated Voldemort, you must be the most powerful wizard of the age. You and I know, not to take anything away from your achievement, that the truth is slightly more complicated than that. But if they could see you helping us track down the remaining Death Eaters, then I believe their anger and fear will begin to dissipate. What do you say?"

"It's a lot to think over," Harry admitted. He knew that he would relish the opportunity to track down Voldemort's followers; to finish what he had started. But he also knew that Kingsley was, quite candidly, seeking to use him as a symbol, a figurehead. That wasn't the life he wished to lead any more.

"Of course," Kingsley accepted. "I wasn't accepting an immediate answer. I'm sure you'll want to think this over and consult your loved ones. I must stress, however, that you _must _keep this from reaching the public domain. Consult only Ron, Hermione and Ginny, and consult them only if you must."

Harry nodded. He felt dazed and disorientated; there was much to consider.

"Get back to me as soon as you know," Kingsley urged.

He clapped Harry's shoulder and began to reach for the door handle, signalling that the audience was over. They shook hands and then Harry left, still dazed.

Hermione was immediately by his side. "What did he say?"

"I'll tell you," Harry promised. "But not here. And not back at Grimmauld. Somewhere we won't be overheard."

Hermione nodded her agreement, her eyes flicking from side to side. A distinct conspiratorial atmosphere now surrounded them; one that they were not unused to, but which had become less familiar over the last months. And Harry could feel his adrenaline pumping, too. He could not deny that it was a welcome feeling.

She took his arm. "I know where we can go."


End file.
